Guilt: Feeling responsible or regretful for a perceived offense, real or imaginary.
Survivors Guilt: A person may experience survivor's guilt after an event where they survived while others didn't, leading to feelings of guilt and shame for simply being alive or not having done enough, even when they had little to no control over the outcome.
I think it’s fair to say that most people experience guilt while grieving. Even though everyone tells us not to, even though people say you can’t carry that, even though we’re told to not be hard on ourselves… we are. My intention of this post today is not for you to tell me, I shouldn’t feel guilty, because I do, regardless. I’m allowing myself to be vulnerable with my feelings today and sharing with you what occurs on a daily basis that most people don’t realize. This is part of my healing journey and I know I won’t carry this guilt forever but I’m certainly carrying it right now.
Every day I ask myself, what if I would have ran left instead of right? What if I had gotten there just 15 seconds earlier? I truly feel in my core had I gotten to him sooner, he would have seen my face and not done it. What made me scream his name in the dead of the night in the complete opposite direction of the way he went? What if I would have ran faster… what if.
As I recently started to experience real depression, not just situational depression, I feel guilty for not always understanding my husband. Now I get it. Now I understand the feeling of wanting and needing to get out of bed but you just can’t. I feel guilty that I couldn’t fully understand that. It’s so true that you don’t fully know, until you’re in the situation yourself.
Some days I sit in front of his picture crying, I'm so sorry. Over and over and over.
My heartaches every day. These last two years or so were hard, wicked hard. I wish we had spent more quality time together these last 2 years. I wish I would have said yes more when he asked me to go on walks with Sadie. I wish I would have been more spontaneous and climbed on the roof to watch the meteor shower together. I wish I would have hugged him tighter, kissed him more, expressed daily how much he meant to me. We definitely knew how much we loved each other but I just feel bad it wasn’t more.
Looking back, I wonder, did I advocate enough? I shouldn’t have stopped going to his doctor’s appointments with him. I should have been more present with him and for him. When things weren’t making sense, I should have asked more questions. Did I do the best I could?
I feel guilty for not being more present. I feel guilty for letting the hustle and bustle of life getting in the way. I feel guilty for not saying yes more often. I feel guilty for not taking that trip. I feel guilty for the days I was cranky when it had nothing to do with him. I feel guilty for the nights I slept on the couch or the spare room because his snoring was too much for me to handle. I wish I would have stayed in bed, and dealt with the snoring. I feel guilty for overlooking the signs this time. I feel so much guilt for the last words I said to him when he was alive… I wish they were ‘I love you’.
I often sit in child's pose in my room letting the tears cleans my soul, asking why?! Rocking back and forth to soothe myself.
I should have laid with him longer when he was having bad days. I should have been more carefree to his choices in life. I wish I didn’t stress over the small things. I wish I had found my spiritual side so much sooner in our relationship so that we could share that connection for longer.
Had I known last year would be our last Christmas as a family, I would have taken more pictures. Our last anniversary, our last birthdays, if only I had known, I would have done so many things so very differently.
I carry so much guilt around the fact of could I have done more? Could this have been prevented? Realistically, I know his mental illness was stronger than me so I could not have prevented any of this. But the guilt is still there. The guilt of my choices, the guilt of my words, the guilt of actions – not that I am a terrible person but I just wish I had done more, so much more.
I hate that it took losing the love of my life for me to really look at life. To step back and ask myself, what am I doing? Who am I? What’s it all for? 12 years wasn’t enough. Why couldn’t I have longer?
I think of all these moments that I will never get back. Moments that I can’t do over. The guilt that comes with grief can be debilitating some days. Even though I know it’s not my fault, it is part of my healing journey. I’m trying to allow myself to feel the guilt, process it and then release it. I haven’t overcome this part yet but I am actively trying every single day.
I try to remind myself that I was a wonderful girlfriend, a loving caregiver, a compassionate wife and the best version of me when I was with him. He showered me with love like I had never known and I know he doesn’t want me to be hard on myself. He knows I did the best I could with what we had. It just doesn’t make it any easier right now. Guilt is so very heavy. I can’t even begin to explain the weight it bears. All of the shoulda, coulda, woulda’s are on my mind every day.
When I suggest you be more present in life, I mean it. Sure, we see all the positive affirmations and the sayings of living in the now but that shit is real. You only get one life, one chance and it can end in a blink of an eye. I never thought it would happen to me. Now here I am, wishing I could have just let us be. Be in the moment. Be in the space. Be accepting. Be one with each other and the Universe.
Losing the love of my life has forever changed me and I will never be the same person again. I know one day this guilt won't be so heavy and I know one day I will feel lighter. I understand this is part of my journey and I will get through it but the Kristy that went in, will not be the same Kristy that comes out.
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